6
Nash
Sunrise over Temecula is beautiful. So different than San Diego, where the fog tucks in around the coast. I watch it light up the golden hill where I slept behind Denali’s place, casting pink rays against her little cottage and the vineyards below.
Her older neighbor comes out on her porch with her coffee and I go still, so I won’t attract any attention.
My body aches from spending the night on the hard ground without any blankets, but the satisfaction of having watched over my mate and cub trumps all else. I don’t care if I have to spend the rest of my life sleeping on rocks, if it keeps them safe, I’ll do it.
I look back down the hill. Denali’s neighbor has moved inside. I stand up and stretch, then creep a little closer to the cottage. I have to admit, I’m hoping for a glimp
